Apartment B21
by PapaBear0
Summary: [One-Shot] A survivor learns the fate of two sisters while he loots their apartment.


**Debrief, Sept 1st 2013**  
**1 year and 0 days since the infection reached North America**

I woke up today at around noon. Hell if I knew what time it was. My watch died at 4AM. I got that watch a few years ago, should've seen it coming. Today is the 1 year anniversary of the zombie virus reaching North America. Call it Day-Z if you like. Things have changed a lot since 2012, and the world really does seem post-zombie-apocalypse. That is save for one detail: no zombies. In my entire time in the city, I haven't seen a single zombie.

Society collapsed long before the zombies could lay its hands on it. At first there was binge-shopping, then looting, and finally, chaos. After a few days of non-stop rioting, everything went dark. Utilities stopped working, radio and television stopped broadcasting, and people began to leave the city for the country. Contrary to what I used to believe, fleeing north out of the city is not so bright of an idea. Especially if you're alone or in a small group. I learned that the hard way when my buddies got sniped from maybe 500 metres away by some bikers while we camped out on a disused farm. Out in the country there was virtually nothing to eat, nothing to drink, and nights were awfully cold. So before I could let my supplies run low, I moved back to the city.

So here I am spending my days scavenging through the remnants of society. Today, I realised my need of watch batteries. Finding such a thing would've been easy had I not made some new friends at the Ikea close to my hideout inside a subway tunnel. There was a huge hardware/auto store just on the northwest corner of the Ikea, probably with all sorts of goodies in there, batteries included. Unfortunately, the group I encountered inside the Ikea didn't seem to take kindly to accidental trespassers. Since then, I spotted them planting a sniper on top of the crane on the southwest corner of the Ikea. They've beefed up perimeter patrols around the store as well.

While I couldn't care less about the Ikea, the fact that their security cuts me off from the hardware store did concern me. I needed batteries, but I wasn't about to take a nail-board to the face or a .22 to the chest over them. There were more pressing matters to attend to anyway (ie food and water). So today, I decided to loot the apartments adjacent to the Ikea and the hardware store. It was a double-win because the modernist glass-and-steel building was not only the perfect place to find some food and water, but also provided cover and concealment for some limited reconnaissance on the security of the northwest of the Ikea.

Before Day-Z, I considered apartments and other high-density buildings as death-traps. But with the mass exodus of people from the cities, and the no-show of zombies, excursions into apartments have been relatively peaceful as long as you keep your head down. Having a gun also helps quite a bit.

As I entered the mantrap leading to the front lobby, I noticed the glass inner door was locked. I estimated the Schlage lock would take about ten minutes to pick, but I had a faster method of entry. I went back out, picked up a polished granite stone, and smashed the door into a heap of laminated glass.

After throwing the rock outside and climbing in, I drew my pistol, and began clearing the apartments. There was little of interest on the first floor. All the units were unlocked, indicating that the residents probably moved to avoid the high density of people inside the apartments. I managed to salvage a few bottles of water and a can of tuna.

When I went to the second floor I noticed one apartment was locked. The faintest whiff of death emanated from the apartment. Curious. After clearing the rest of the floor, I came back, took out my lockpick gun and picked the lock. It took about three minutes. When I was done, I unholstered my pistol, and entered the apartment. The unpleasant odour was stronger but not quite as overpowering as I expected.

Perhaps the occupant had passed away during the initial collapse of society, and nobody had noticed. Maybe he or she had committed suicide.

Inside the apartment, I found an open kitchen and a living area. The living area had a sofa (probably from Ikea), bookcases, and a coffee table. A flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall. At the end of the apartment, there were windows. I spotted a rather stuffed-looking backpack in the middle of the kitchen counter. Strange. I noticed empty tins of food inside the dustbin. Signs of inhabitation.

When I approached the door to the master bedroom, I took a deep breath, counted to three, then burst through the door, pistol ready.

The first thing I noticed was the slender figure lying face-up on the bed. "Stay down!" I shouted. That's when I realised the person lying on the bed wasn't going anywhere: she was dead. She was a blonde, with wide blue eyes and distinctively Nordic features. Her skin was a milky white. She was wearing a blue dress that was seemingly unsoiled despite the fact that the bed she was lying on was soaked with blood. Her body seemed pristine. Someone had used blood to write something in a Nordic language on the walls: "Beklager, min søster." There was surprisingly there was less if not little smell in the bedroom as compared to the rest of the apartment.

There was an ensuite bathroom inside the bedroom, that was essentially empty, besides the drugs in the medicine cabinet. The medicine cabinet had an unexpected amount of Valium.

After clearing the other bedroom, I found that the source of the smell was the bathroom outside the other bedroom. There was a mix of faeces, blood, urine, and vomit inside the bathtub, and several slop buckets.

With the apartment clear, I started searching through its contents. I learned that two people lived in the apartment: Elsa Taxell Behring and Anna Taxell Behring. Sisters, it seems. According to their birth certificates, they were both born at the Birchmount campus of the city hospital. Elsa, the dead person in the master bedroom, was born January 10th 1989. Anna was 4 years her younger, born on the same day. The diploma hanging on Elsa's bedroom wall indicated that she had a BA in English. Payroll papers revealed that she worked as a mid-level manager at a Norwegian company called Arendelle Dynamics that had an office in a suburb of the city. While she did enjoy an unusually powerful job, her salary was modest, and fate had her sharing an apartment with her sister, who was attending university in the city for a BASc in engineering.

Their father was the president of Arendelle Dynamics, and their mother another executive. They both died in a plane crash in 2010 leaving Elsa to take care of Anna. While according to several memos, the untimely deaths of the executives had little effect on Arendelle Dynamics thanks to extensive continuity planning, it unfortunately seemed to have a profound effect on Elsa and Anna.

In the small portion Elsa's personal diary that I read, Elsa was crushed by the deaths of her parents. She was rather close to them, and their loss sent her spiralling into depression and a diazepam addiction. Elsa estranged herself from Anna.

While Elsa isolated herself from her sibling, Anna, who hoping to cling onto what was left of her family, slowly became obsessed with Elsa. I found a shoebox full of letters and drafts of letters from Anna to Elsa. A letter from 2010:

_Elsa,_

_I feel like such a coward for not doing this face-to-face. But given the way you've been shunning yourself from me, I think this is the best way to do things._

_I know you've been hurting a lot since we lost Mom and Dad, and there's been a lot of shit to deal with. You're still fighting with the lawyers over what Mom and Dad left for us. School is getting to you, and you have to worry about me._

_But I still need you. I need you more than ever. I feel so alone and hopeless. I don't feel like myself anymore. I can't see the future, all I can do is think about what I've lost from the past._

_Next time you see me, can we talk? No one seems to understand, and you're the only family I have left._

_Anna_

The first letters seemed innocent enough, but then there came letters such as these:

_I love you Elsa._

_That's all I ever think. I'm nearing the edge, and genuinely considering setting myself free. Free from the pain that is life on Earth._

_I've tried to move on, and accept that you've grown away from me, and that it is time to let it go._

_But I can't. I need you. I love you. I can't exist without you._

_I hate myself because I'm not good enough for you. All I ever do now is daydream about the happiness I want to share with you._

_But it seems like what I imagine is impossible, at least not with the fallible being that I am._

_I can't help but wish that we could be together, but I'm afraid that fate would punish me and destroy what little we already have._

_I love you Elsa. I wish you loved me back._

_Anna_

A few postcard-sized pieces of paper fell from the letters. While Anna's major was in engineering, she was quite the artist. Though her drawings were more Shadman than Degas. My mind wandered to the sniper on the crane, and I suddenly realised that in the time I took exploring the narrative of Anna and Elsa, I had completely forgotten about my objectives. I re-entered the kitchen, and began looting the pantry of food and water, but before I could even put the first can of food into my bag, I heard a key slip into the front door.

By instinct, I drew my pistol.

I heard the key turn, then saw the deadbolt turn. The movement of the deadbolt stopped in hesitation as whoever was on the other side of the door realised the door was unlocked. I held my pistol in the low-ready position.

"Anna?" I shouted. "Anna Behring?"

The first thing I saw was the rifle in her hands. I raised my pistol as she raised her rifle, and I let loose a cacophony of gunfire, which was silenced by a deafening shot from her rifle. I saw stars as I fell to the ground, winded. A crushing pain spread through my chest. I gasped for air. I grabbed quick-release tab on my vest, and pulled it, wrestling my armour off my chest. I could tell a bruise was forming.

In the doorway, the redhead with the rifle had collapsed in a heap. She haemorrhaged on the cold tile floor, her blood forming a small pool around her body.

I crawled towards the woman, who was slowly dying. "Elsa..." she whimpered. I picked up her rifle, a pump-action 7.62, and tossed it aside. "Sorry," I said breathlessly. "Elsa..." she mumbled again.

The least I could do was give the woman her final wish.

I dragged Anna into Elsa's bedroom, and pulled her onto Elsa's bed. Anna pulled Elsa's cadaver towards her, and wrapped the icy-cold body in a tight embrace. I sank to the ground, and took a painful breath. At least they'll be together soon.

When I looked back at Anna she was motionless. She was dead. I pried her body away from Elsa's and searched her. She had magazines for her rifle, some water, a chocolate bar, and a letter. After I finished putting food, water, and ammunition into my backpack, I decided to take the letters, and Elsa's diary with me as well.

"Damn," I cursed as my gaze lingered on the two dead sisters.

Looking out the window I noticed the orange glow of the sun just clipping the horizon. It was getting dark. Reconnaissance would have to wait until tomorrow. I made my way back to the subway station.


End file.
